


Dancer of the Sky

by Kalla_Moonshado



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Birthdays, Fluff, Gen, LTfest 2018, Liontrust Fest 2018, M/M, Sickeningly cute fluff, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 05:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14537970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalla_Moonshado/pseuds/Kalla_Moonshado
Summary: LionTrust fest 2018Prompt: 17 -Suggested by: eriakitNon-specified - Lothar finds a puppy/kitten/baby gryphon and gives it to Khadgar as a birthday presentThis was the perfect opportunity to explain how Khadgar winds up with Sky Dancer.





	Dancer of the Sky

LionTrust fest 2018

Prompt: 17 -Suggested by: eriakit  
Non-specified - Lothar finds a puppy/kitten/baby gryphon and gives it to Khadgar as a birthday present

 

Dancer of the Sky

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Khadgar made a soft noise of pain as he reached behind him to rub his back.

He found a hand swatting his gently away and another replacing it to massage the spot. Khadgar’s soft noise of pain turned into one of relief.

A week had passed since the battle within the tower of Karazhan, and Khadgar had sequestered himself in the library, scouring every book he could lay his hands on about his condition. Though he was on the cusp of nineteen, his body looked and acted eighty. Another peal of thunder caused him to arch slightly, and he swore.

An arm curled around him, a hand took the book from his hands. “Enough. Enough for one night. You’re doing yourself no favors.”

Khadgar sighed, looking up at Lothar – Anduin, he reminded himself – and shook his head. “It’s just the weather,” he protested, weakly.

The commander snorted, pulling Khadgar against him, his hands working into the muscles along the mage’s back. “You’ve been running yourself ragged.”

“Anduin, Garona vanished. We saw her kill Llane – I can’t let that happen. I can’t. Not after…” Khadgar trailed off, shaking his head. The hands against his back stilled, then resumed their massage. “I’m sorry. I should have seen it sooner. Should have come to you sooner.”

“Don’t,” Lothar murmured. “Don’t do this. We did what we had to, and … you heard him. Now relax before you pull something and hurt yourself further.”

Khadgar heaved a heavier sigh and let himself lean against Lothar’s strength, if just for a moment. The past week had seen the two grow closer. Whether it was because of their ordeal in the week leading to what happened in the tower, or the week after, it was hard to tell. Khadgar had lost his beloved mentor, teacher, and dearest friend and lover. Lothar had lost one of the closest friends he had, and also a former lover. They took solace in each other now, regardless of whether it would last.

Khadgar finally gave in entirely and slid his arms around the warrior, laying his head against the strong shoulder. “I would give anything to bring him back, Anduin.”

“I know – and that’s what worries me, lad. I’m afraid you’ll go and sacrifice yourself for a ghost – and you’re all I have of him. You’re his legacy. His heir. He left much of himself in you.” Khadgar snorted a laugh. Anduin prodded his shoulder. “Things like that – both of you have filthy minds.” He sighed, his hands working down Khadgar’s back. “I have to wonder though, had things worked out differently…”

“Perhaps,” Khadgar murmured. “I just fear my reactions to you are just that – reactions. You’ve lost enough. I don’t want to hurt you further.”

Lothar leaned back a little, looking into the lined face, the furrowed brows over the crystalline blue eyes, silvery with worry. He smiled a little before leaning to touch a shockingly soft kiss between those brows. “Reaction it may be, but it comforts us both nonetheless, hm?”

Khadgar blushed faintly. “I suppose…” He grinned, though it did not reach his eyes. “And that’s something both of us need in the wake of all this mess.”

“See? I knew you’d see it logically.” Anduin chuckled. Khadgar rolled his eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Mentally? A little. My back still feels like your entire cavalry ran it over,” Khadgar admitted. As if to punctuate his statement, the next peal of thunder rattled the windows in the library, causing the mage to wince.

“That’s that then. You go back to my room. No arguments. I’m going to find a healer.” Lothar let him go, and nudged him gently toward the door.

“I don’t need a –“

“I’m getting you something for that pain – you may not need a healer’s touch, but there are plenty of things they can give you to ease the pain,” Lothar replied, sternly.

Khadgar sighed, knowing just how stubborn the warrior could be, and with a sigh of irritation, did as he was told. Though, as a final act of defiance, he scooped the book under his arm before he left.

Lothar found Khadgar sitting up on his bed, his nose back in the book. With a roll of his eyes and a prayer to the Light for patience, he carefully pulled the book out of Khadgar’s hands, and put a vial in it. “Healer said down the lot, then have a cup of sweet honeymint. That should be along in a moment – so I’d advise not drinking that down just yet. It smells like orc toes.”

“How would _you_ know what orc toes smell like?” Khadgar asked.

“I’ve dragged enough of the buggers by them into pyres or mass graves. When Med –“ he stopped short and winced. “Or you haven’t set them on fire,” he finished, far more quietly.

Khadgar sighed, toying with the vial in his fingers. “Anduin…”

Lothar sat on the bed by Khadgar’s legs, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I keep… I loved him, damn it all. And I know it still hurts.”

“I feel like a child,” Khadgar sighed. “I turn nineteen in three days, and I still feel like a child losing their first love.”

Lothar sighed heavily, turning his hand and tipping Khadgar’s chin up. “You did. In a horrifyingly terrible way. But you were no child. You were no child when you showed up in Karazhan. You were no child when he named you “apprentice”. Young, yes, considering our own ages, but you are no child. I know Med saw some of his own youth in you, and it’s part of why you got on so well. I mean. I suspected there might have been more between you when you came back to Stormwind. I knew when you paced the throne room, begging Llane to listen to you. I saw it in your eyes. You wanted a way to save him.”

Khadgar closed his eyes so he would not have to meet the commander’s. “More than anything. I had a feeling you would understand, considering the looks that passed between you whenever I saw you two together. He avoided you. Danced around you when you tried to pry out of him if he was all right.”

“And you protected him. Even from me.”

“I’m sorry,” Khadgar whispered. “I didn’t realize. I didn’t know.”

“And you were loyal to him right to the end.” Lothar leaned in and touched his lips to Khadgar’s. “Just as you are now. You were well named, Khadgar. And we will get through this.”

Any further comment Khadgar had been about to make was interrupted as the tea was brought by a page. Lothar went to retrieve it, and set the tray bearing a steaming teapot and two large mugs. Lothar filled one, and gave Khadgar a pointed look.

Khadgar sighed and uncorked the vial, downing its contents and making a face. “Light’s _Mercy_ that is worse than anything I’ve ever even…” He took the mug from Lothar, and burned his tongue and throat with the first swallow, but ignored the pain. It was worth it. “Gah. Okay fine. Orc toes. Ugh.”

Thankfully, whatever it was worked quickly, and the crease in his forehead eased as the pain died away – including that of his mouth and throat. He was far more careful with the rest of the tea, but finished the first mug obediently before Lothar poured him a second, and then one for himself, settling back on the bed by Khadgar’s legs again.

The storm was quieter here, though the thunder continued to rattle windows out in the hallway, and shook the Keep to its foundations. There was a faint hiss of the rain as it struck the windows, and somewhere, the wind found its way in to whistle faintly.

After a third cup of tea, Khadgar started to feel sleepy, and found himself nodding off. He only vaguely heard the chuckle of the older man before he nodded off entirely.

 

The storm had passed after a couple of days, and Lothar ushered Khadgar outside, almost giddy. His excuse was, of course, that the mage needed sunlight and air.

Laughing, Khadgar let Lothar drag him through the city, curious as to where he was being dragged _to_.

When they reached the aviary, Khadgar grew suspicious. Lothar was tight-lipped, but his eyes shone oddly – and Khadgar realized that it was with a youth he had not felt in years.

Lothar pushed him down on one of the parapet walls, and told him to stay put. Blinking, Khadgar did so, and turned a little to watch as one of the handlers groomed one of the gryphons, which burbled and warbled happily as dust rose and was carried away by the wind. Khadgar smiled sadly as he remembered Medivh’s bad landing on this very aviary, cursing that wind. Perhaps the aviary was built for grooming and with less of an eye for actual flight.

Before he could think too much on it, Lothar returned with two large baskets. He set one of them down by his feet. The other, he held out to Khadgar, grinning like a madman.

Khadgar raised a suspicious eyebrow, but took the basket, and nearly dropped it when it wriggled. “What in the name of--?!” He was stopped as a tiny head popped out of the blanket covering it. “Oh…”

Tiny dark eyes fixed on Khadgar, and the mage found he could not look away. The world fell away from him, and all he could focus on was the tiny creature, which tilted its head at him, blinked, and made a tiny squawking sound.

The head was prickly, the new feathers all standing on end – making it look rather like a pincushion. Its beak was tiny, but he could see the hook of it was no less deadly than a full grown one. The little wings it lifted to move the blanket aside were just as prickly as its head, and the rest of it was covered with a fluff that looked softer than kitten-down. The little stubby tail, ending in a little poof of fur, twitched. Every inch of her markings, from what Khadgar could see, was as white as pure falling snow.

“She only just hatched,” Lothar said softly. “I had to be quick before she could see anyone else and imprint on them.”

Imprint. Khadgar’s eyes widened, and finally broke eye contact. “I have… I don’t…” He looked up at Lothar in panic.

“I do,” Lothar said softly. “She’s yours now. Or, rather, you’re hers.”

Khadgar lifted a finger to stroke the tiny head, which lifted into the touch, and twisted so Khadgar’s fingertip scratched at the underside of her beak. “She’s… She’s…”

Lothar leaned down to touch his lips to Khadgar’s forehead. “Happy birthday, Khadgar.”

“How did you know it was –“

“You told me during that storm that I made you drink orc guts for.” Khadgar glared. Lothar shrugged. “Glare all you want. You said you’d be nineteen in three days. Well. It’s been three days.”

Khadgar blushed. “So you found a gryphon egg near hatching?”

It was Lothar’s turn to blush. “No, actually. I had meant to present you with the egg at some point in the future. She decided she wanted out this morning, and… well. It was like she knew.”

As if to back Lothar’s claim up, the little gryphlet squawked again, and nipped Khadgar’s fingers in reproach – he’d stopped petting. The fingers quickly resumed, and the odd purr-like trill she made sounded wrong coming from such a tiny thing, but her eyes closed in content.

“So. Shall we take your little gift, and this,” Lothar held up the other basket, “out and have the picnic I planned on?”

Khadgar didn’t hear him, he was entirely consumed by the gryphlet. Lothar laughed softly, nudging Khadgar a little. “What are you going to call her?”

“Sky Dancer,” came the instant reply. The gryphlet crooned in approval. “Is it safe to take her from the aviary?”

“For a little, yes. You are her mother now, for all intents and purposes, Khadgar. Which means you’ll have to come here every day until she’s large enough to begin training – which you will do some of.” Lothar grinned.

Khadgar looked up, and Lothar blinked at the look in the mage’s eyes. “Thank you, Anduin,” Khadgar murmured.

For one afternoon, Khadgar let his thoughts of his condition, of Karazhan, of impending orcish invasions, and his failing magical strength go. He let sunlight warm him, Sky Dancer’s antics as she tried to move cheer him, and Lothar’s company soothe him.

Tomorrow would be another day. And tomorrow would take care of itself.


End file.
